


Thanks for existing

by letitmclennon



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, Happy birthday Paul, John's soft side, M/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:10:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitmclennon/pseuds/letitmclennon
Summary: That's why every morning when John opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees is Paul, he thanks heaven, or anyone from up there that has been kind enough to send that creature right in his life. With Paul by his side everything is easier. It’s easier to live, easier to be a Beatles, it’s even easier to be John Lennon, with his doubts, insecurities, problems, torments and all that jazz.





	Thanks for existing

A grunt echoed in the room.

John opens his eyes slightly, while an annoying little bird, outside his window, has decided to wake him up with its sweet song.

_Damn you_! It really doesn’t have anyone else to bother with its tweets?

They live in the bloody center of bloody London, a city with thousands and thousands and thousands of people. Should it choose right John?

The young man sighs, evidently it’s one of the disadvantages of living close to Hyde Park: little birds like aspiring singers that are always ready to flit around their apartment.

With a snort, John turns in bed, bumping into the other guy who sleeps deeply under the blankets still too thick for summer nights.

Paul.

Bumping into him is enough to wake John up, who smiles noticing Paul‘s not particularly angelic position: he is lying on his back, one arm falls outside the mattress, the other is abandoned on the pillow, above his head, the face is turned towards John and the mouth is open. He snores, Paul, he snores deeply. It's something terribly annoying, but John also finds it amusing. Paul, so delicate, so perfect and tidy, fucking snores making more noise than an electric drill, thus canceling the marvelous effect created by his graceful and seraphic look.

John lifts up a little, pointing his elbow on the mattress, and approaches Paul to close his mouth. Someone would wake up with a dry mouth that morning.

But his hand has no intention of letting go that pale face; so it stays right there, with Paul's chin tightly held between John's thumb and forefinger.

Although each of them has their own room with a huge double bed, each morning they still find waking up next to each other. They live together with George and Ringo in that apartment on 57, Green Street for a couple of months, and every night, when the other two Beatles go to sleep, Paul sneaks into John's room, moving furtive, step by step, stealthily, not to wake their roommates.

John finds himself waiting for him every night, because he needs this as much as Paul does. They were sucked so quickly by the vortex of fame, that... _damn_ , every now and then the head turns and they only feel the need for this carousel to stop for a moment: it’s funny yes, but also so fucking overwhelming.

Paul who slips first into John's room, and then in his bed, manages to stop it, and sleeping next to him is sweet and soothing, as if John drank ten chamomiles, one after the other, because Paul smells like home, like Liverpool; if John closes his eyes, and comes closer to him, to his hair, for example, it almost seems like going back to his house in Mendips, when they were both coming back late from a gig and were sneaking into John's bedroom, to curl up together under the covers of his little bed waking up with the nose buried in each other's hair.

That's why every morning when John opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees is Paul, he thanks heaven, or anyone from up there that has been kind enough to send that creature right in his life. With Paul by his side everything is easier. It’s easier to live, easier to be a Beatles, it’s even easier to be John Lennon, with his doubts, insecurities, problems, torments and all that jazz.

John's thumb resting on Paul's chin decides that he just can’t hold back anymore, because of all these thoughts; so he moves a little, stroking the rough skin, the beard that frames the face, and then those soft lips, now a little apart to breathe.

John doesn’tresist, and how could he when the one who makes his life livable celebrates his birthday on that day?

He must wake him up at any cost, to be the first to wish him happy birthday, to be the first to show him how happy he is that on a sunny day several years ago, Paul was born just in order to meet John and change his life forever.

The young lad moves his finger, directing it upwards to be able to caress that inviting mouth, perfect as any other detail of his face.

A perfect nose, with a delicate shape, as nice as an elf's nose with a slightly upturned tip.

Perfect cheeks, always round, they become so chubby when he smiles, and Paul always smiles, for John. The same John who likes to tease those cheeks with his finger, to personally test their softness.

Perfect eyes, two fucking incredibly fascinating eyes, big eyes, dark, full of warmth, mischievous and immensely sweeteyes, eyes that John would never get tired of looking at.

John sees so many emotions in those eyes that sometimes he struggles, he doesn’t know if he’s able to stand them, but on the other hand he can no longer live without them, without Paul.

And as he looks at him, thinking how beautiful it is to get lost in his eyes, John doesn’t realize that Paul has opened them and is now staring at him, sending him his most powerful gaze.

"Is it interesting?"

John blinks, slightly caught off guard, "What?"

"Whatever you're doing."

"Oh yeah." John moans, satisfied, "You can bet your nice arse."

"Good for you." Paul says, obviously smiling amused at having surprised John looking at him so intently.

John laughs softly. Paul's voice is hoarse, after sleeping with his mouth open, but it's still so perfect. John likes it,it drives him crazy, when he sings, when he talks, when he laughs. Anything on his lips is so fucking worth. Like milk in tea: tea is a unique, incredible drink, but with the addition of milk it becomes different, velvety, simply perfect. And Paul is like those little drops of milk.

"What were you thinking?" Paul asks, calling John back there, at that moment, in that bed with him.

"I was thinking of you." John answers sincerely.

"Mm yeah." Paul murmurs, as he pushes John on his back to climb over him, "I’m a nice early morning thought."

John laughs with him for a moment, then raises a hand to run his fingers in his dark and tangled hair and draw Paul to himself.

"Today is your birthday."

"Oh." Paul lets out, biting his lip, "It's true."

"Twenty-one years ago you started living." John continues and runs his hands on Paul's back, gently, as if afraid of breaking him, as if he were still a newborn baby, to be treated with extreme care.

But Paul is no longer a child, he isn’t at all, and he arches his back under John's hands, appreciating his attentions, "So it seems."

"And living has brought you to me." John whispers, when his hands tighten on Paul's shirt and draw him even closer.

Paul laughs a little as he points his elbows on the sides of John's face, just to keep looking at him, "And that's a good thing, isn’t it?"

"It's a beautiful thing." John sighs, rubbing their noses, "So much I should say thank you."

" _Thank you_?" Paul repeats, surprised, "For meeting me?"

John shakes his head slowly, accompanying the gesture with a sweet smile on his lips.

"Thank you for _existing_ , Paul."

Paul blinks slightly confused, as if he didn’texpect anything similar from John, and he, _John_ , can feel with his own skin Paul’s heart, which has just lost a beat.

"It seems something very important to say." Paul states, smiling mischievously, as soon as he recovered from the surprise of John's statement.

But the latter seems really intent on surprising him more and more today.

"It is, because you’re important."

"Hey, hey!" Paul laughs softly.

He just lifts up to look better on his face, perhaps looking for a small sign that shows that John is just kidding.

But he doesn’t find anything, simply because John isn’t mocking him. In fact, he has never been more serious.

"Easy, Lennon, otherwise I'll get used to all this cheekiness." Paul warns him, winking at him.

"Get used to it then." John replies, smiling happily.

"Can I, really?"

"Sure."

"I believe you, you know?"

"Count on it."

"Look, I'll use it against you next time we’re having a fight."

"You have my permission."

"Well, then." Paul sighs, finally deciding to bask in all those sweet things John told him, and approaches him again, "I would say that if it's true that I'm so important, I deserve a nice gift."

"Quite right." John answers and looks at him mischievously, before kissing him tenderly on his lips, "Happy birthday, Paul."

Paul sends him a decidedly bewildered look, before replying, "That's it?"

"Of course not, eager lad, we're just at the beginning."

Paul lets out a laugh, before John kisses him once, and then a second time, and then again, again and again. But…

"John?"

"Yes?" John answers distractedly, still too caught up in Paul's mouth.

"Seriously, where's my gift? The real one?"

John smiles mischievously, and in an instant he switches their positions over, pinning Paul to the mattress, deciding to ignore his question.

"John, I really want my present..." Paul tries to say, but John's kisses and caresses are trying in every way to distract him from his claim.

And John, regardless of his words, doesn’t seem to have any intention of submitting or stopping.

"John, the gift."

"Paul, can’t you just be quiet for a fucking minute?"

"Gift!"

"Shut up!"

"Oh, all right." Paul blurts out, finally deciding to give in to John, "But then, gift, _clear_?!"

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Paul!  
> This is one of the days of the year that makes me happy, the fandom is so full of great new works that this atmosphere gives me so much joy.  
> Anyway, this is a little oneshot I wrote in 2014, after I went to London and did my self-made tour of Beatles places. One of this was the apartment in Green street, which all four of them shared for a period in 1963.  
> So this is it. I wanted to post something for Paulie's bday, but I couldn't decide which one amongst all the fanfics I wrote for his birthdays in the past years. That's why I asked whydontwedoitontheinternet to help me decide. So thank you very much for helping me, darling. <3  
> Also thank you to Vale for being my wonderful betareader. <3  
> Hope you like this little work.  
> See you for Mclennon anniversary, on 6th July.  
> Byeeee :D  
> Chiara


End file.
